July 4, 2000 - LiL Retrospective


My first LIL, Living in Leather, conference. This annual conference of the National Leather Association was first held here in Seattle 15 years ago, and after many years away it has come home. Lots of info is at the website.

After the week is over, as I sit here and write this, I'm exhausted. Fried. Played out. Well past overwhelmed and well into sleep-for-a-week. And it was all good.

We had workshops, schmoozing, banquets, play, more schmoozing, vendors, more play, all to excess.

Jane and Jim were there, as Janes Guide was one of the sponsors of the event. Local friends, international friends, new friends and old friends. Lots and lots of folks, and all just as weird and kinky as I.

Many events, many occurrences, many sights, and all glogged together in a whirlpool of exhausted schmooze and exuberance.

If you haven't gotten the idea yet, there was a buncha shit going on and I don't remember half of it. Next year, I take notes. For now, I think I'm going to have to adopt a similar vehicle to what Jane has done, and she is including 'LIL Moments' in little paragraphed vignettes.

I was one of the first to arrive at the check-in desk the first day, and the poor clerk wasn't as of yet used to leather-clad violent and erotic t-shirt wearing consenting adult kinkoids. A slight glutch ['glutch' is the sniglet for "sudden rush of shit to the heart"] when my Visa wouldn't cover the entire week. I assured her that the next morning there would be an additional thousand bucks in it, a deposit to my debit account, and she clicked off for one night and we were set. The bellman, who earned his money, didn't blink at the bags I unloaded from my Oldsmobubble ... the back seat was overly filled with bags. I'd spent the morning packing one bag per major scene planned [one bag for sensory dep, one bag for kavadi, one bag for piercing, two bags for Mean Green Machine, etc]. As well, I hit both the grocery store and Check Medical on the way in. I had suitcases out the wazoo, grocery bags, even one little knapsack just with my meds and vitamins and toiletries. Slave to fashion that I am, I had one bag with just jeans and tshirts. I probably over tipped him, but 30 years ago I was a bellman at the Kah-Nee-Ta resort down in Oregon, and I learned about working for tips.

As an aside, there were quite a few good friends and play partners who were unable for whatever reason to attend. They were missed, thought of through events where "XYZ would have enjoyed this workshop" or "damn, but ABC should see this", even "I'd love to do blahblah with PQR right about now".

Unexpectedly, I met and arranged an impromptu piercing scene with Brigette right off the first day [Thursday nite]. I had a minimum of plans for that night, although most of the week's playtime was fairly clearly demarked into "work as a nurse" and "frolic as a player" time. Running a crew of volunteer nurses was less problem than I had feared, as all were professional and other than being present and handing out the occasional band aid or cup of juice, our duties were minimal. Brigette and I have had brief and intense fun off and on for several years, a piercing here, a drive-by fisting there, mixed in amongst such things as her moving to London for a while. This time we jumped right in at 100 MPH, drawing blood and piercing erectile tissue severely, through-and-through terrorizing and stabbing and finger-painting and squirt-gunning. She hovered on the teetering edge of shock the entire time. I had to stay in the moment, watch and observe, hydrate and push fruit and juice for blood-sugar, and at the same time continue my stimulation. It was great for both of us. I loved the responsibility rush! I wrapped her in a blanket at the end of the scene and escorted her up to her room to shower off the top to bottom, side to side body-wide blood paintings. We showered together, and had fun washing each other off. We ended up fooling around off and on the rest of the night [and the rest of the week, for that matter]. We jumped each other on a futon laying on the ground once we were back in the dungeon, went racing around looking for appropriate latex, and she ended up pushing me into incoherent animal grunts. And then [compliment of compliments!] told me that she wanted a recording of those animal noises to use in the future for jerking off! The Kodak Moment? Finding out that she not only has prehensile toes, but is practiced at using them!

Another lady gave me a similar compliment a week or so ago - in asking me if I'd do her a favor and abuse her beautiful boobies at LIL, she mentioned that she had masturbated thinking about me recently. It made MY millennium! Such a compliment, especially for a broken down old fart such as myself. She and I got together Friday nite at LIL, and went about our business. We had first covered this type of turf years ago at Mack in Vancouver, in the Purgatory play space, and it was a lot of fun for both of us then. Her master is a good man and a good friend, and is unable to allow himself to do the sorts of things I do to her. He loves her too much to do what he feels is damage, although since he knows how much she enjoys it and knows that she doesn't consider it damage herself, he lovingly allows she and I to do it. Much of what I do he can't look at, but he is happy to see the smile on her face. After a bit of bondage and miscellaneous abrasion I moved into bullwhipping, which laid her open a bit and raised bruises the size of Nebraska. For calming down? I did dual knife teasing, including fucking her mouth with a razor sharp hunting knife while holding her head in place with a second knifepoint under the point of her chin. Hot stuff. The real dangerous thing wasn't the bullwhip, it wasn't the bungee-cord bondage that turned her boobies hard and purple, it wasn't the chopstick & rubber band nipple clamps, it wasn't even the garden weasel or knives. The really kinky and dangerous thing happened the next morning, when we performed a true Power Exchange [tm by someone, I'm sure]. We went to the Anal Play workshop and after the presenters turned the class over to participation I got up on the table buck naked and allowed her to explore for an hour or so of massaging and fingering and poking about my bomb bay doors. After what I'd done to her, and how her boobies felt that morning, to let her stick her hands up my butt? Trust and love, kids, trust and love. Her master is a very lucky man to have such a gal as a life partner.

I had the opportunity to have a first scene with an attractive young lady, one of my nurse volunteers. We hadn't really planned it to any great degree other than she would wear disposable clothes and I would take her a bit roughly. She showed up in a rubber dress which she said had a flaw and could be shredded. I did so, happily, while she was shackled hand and foot to a steel scaffolding upright. She shuddered at the cold steel, so I duct-taped her boobs to the pole 'to warm it up'; it was a fairly ineffective way of warming steel apparently :) . We played on a while and it was fun, but I really owe her an apology, as I was distracted by the long-planned Kavadi scene planned for later in that same evening. It wasn't fair to her, and I felt/feel bad about it. I will have to make it up to her with a significant just-for-her evening soon.

The Kavadi was special. Real special. We had done it once before some months ago and that had been a lot of fun. A mahogany bottom piece, lexan top piece, screwed together to hold the breasts tight and squished ala mammogram, and then 18 12" 10guage skewers dropped through the lexan into the breasts. Fruits placed on top for weight, neck and back straps in place, and she wore it proudly.

I staked out a blood sports area 30 minutes early, set out my equipment, and started cleansing the area and grounding and centering and connecting and all those woo woo things that are so important. This was a showy piece, an exhibitionist's piece, dramatic and impressive - but it was also performed for ourselves as a sacred piece. When Panther and I started we spent quite a bit of time talking in low voices, grounding and sharing breath and creating sacred space. We made a virtual circle and created a strong bond right from the git-go. I mentioned to her that at some points I was going to challenge her trust and she had to trust and do what I told her. I focused on she and I intently and solely. I was dimly aware that there was a crowd around, and that the photographer I'd asked to document the scene set off flashes occasionally, but that was all in the fuzzy peripherie to our little universe. "Performing for the appreciative crowd" was an afterthought, much later when we were cruising.

The skin cleansed, I put the breast press in place and began to drop the skewers into place. I set each one in, some poked and some dropped and some pushed. Once all were in I told her that we had reached one of those moments when she would have to just do as I asked and trust me. She said she trusted me. I had a padded bench about waist high, and had her rest the bottom of the breast press on it. It was an awkward height and she had to sorta kneel to do it. I pulled out a large paddleball paddle and hammered the spikes down into place. Hard. Repeatedly. [Friends later told me that each slam of the paddle set off a shocked reaction through the crowd that looked like the wave in stadiums. Hehehehe.] She honored me well with her acceptance of the experience. I then brought her back to her chair and began to place the potatoes on top of the skewers. Last time I'd used lemons and the lemon juice was fairly unforgiving. Halfway through I pulled out a potato - and ate it instead of posting it on a skewer... it was just dischordant enough to make her smile and take a bit of the edge off. Once she relaxed into the potatoes [used because they are 'heavier'] I casually mentioned that I apologized for the potatoes forcing her to miss out on the lemon juice... and then brought out a plastic squeeze bottle of lemon juice and doused her skewered boobs with it! Hehehehehehe.

The rest of the scene was pretty much a blur - parade around the blood sports area, say hi to folks, poke the spikes down a bit more, and so forth. We finally settled back in our chairs and I despiked her. Allowed the gentleman who had used her as a canvas for some beautiful play piercing earlier in the day to remove one of the spikes. It was all a powerful experience, the entire thing from start to finish. I didn't know just how powerful it was until I sent Panther along with a roommate up to shower and I collapsed. Suddenly I crashed. Top crash.

Panther has since been flogging herself for "not being there" for me, but that wasn't her job and she would not have been capable had she been there. She was appropriately in her own aftercare, in the capable hands of a loving family member. I had failed to plan for my own needs and to have someone to look after me. Lesson learned.

I am still not over the emotion involved in the paintings that Jeff Hengst did. He captured Panther and I pulling against the ropes and hooks in our recent ritual. Larger than life matched paintings, framed in gold and placed on either side of the podium in the banquet hall. I was moved to tears, repeatedly, and every time someone asked me about it it happened again. I still feel overwhelmed by the honor. It'll take a while to deal with it and arrange my thoughts. [although I have to admit a certain humility at everyone in the universe now knowing for sure just how small my dillywhacker is when I'm being hung from hooks]

Shey and I had planned for some time to do a sensory deprivation scene and we were able to do it Sunday nite at LIL. The usual stuff - stethoscope duct taped over her heart, oxygen mask on her face focusing her breathing, blindfold made out of 2" strips of foil covered bubble wrap, and the whole woman pallet-wrapped to a bondage chair that was certified to be too small for any human tush to sit on comfortably. Once everything was in place I fooled around with the Hitachi Magic Wand sitting under her hood piercing and ice cubes on other exposed erectile tissue. It was a fun introduction to the form of play for us, her first time, but in the future I think I'll go back to using big soft headphones off of a boom box, as the damn stethoscope just hurts the ears and the noise level in the 10,000sq ft dungeon was just too loud for her to be able to focus on her heartbeat. Oh, and it wasn't til I was done that I remembered that I had forgotten to get out the Wartenberg Wheel. Doggone it! Anyhow, it was fun and I'm enjoying the opportunity to get to know her better - a really nice lady with a helluva nice husband that obviously loves her very much.

I had two opportunities to share the Mean Green Machine, and several other offers from folks that will have to be realized another day.

One afternoon I met a new friend - one of the 'Nationally Known' folks, who shall remain nameless here - in her room and hooked her up. Her first time with this toy, and she did well. We slowly progressed from an interesting tingle between thighs, to a patch on her mons and a probe inside on her g-spot, and finally on to a fast and furious fingerfucking while the machine kept on zapping her inside and out... wheeeeeeee! It was a really good old fashioned sluttish good time for both of us.

Late one evening in the dungeon I met with KSlave and C, and it was a fairly vigorous time. I wasn't really up to speed with the fact that she and he and others had been having some fairly rough take-down scenes, punching and tackling and stuff. KSlave got up onto the gyn table and we attached patches all over her nether regions, including the 2" stainless steel ball inserted vaginally, and I started cranking the power up. In short order we needed four of us holding her down while she was arching her back in screaming throes of agony/ecstasy. At one point she kicked out and I was knocked down into one of the then-unused stirrups. Ouch! Let me tell you - this young lady so wonderfully embraces the Goddess in her orgasms I'm priveliged to simply be in the same room with her! I think she knows she has a blank check any time she wants to be electrified. But my elbow still bruised up from that damn stirrup!

It's now several days after. I've been back to work for a couple days, the cat is used to me feeding her instead of Kevin. I'm about to start unpacking my suitcases and begin doing the laundry. I'm nowhere near getting all the new cards typed into my email address book. I may post more, I may let the above stand. All I know right now is - life is definitely very good.

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